Crush of Conjuring Proportions
by broadwaypants
Summary: Everyone's favorite magician has feelings for a rather unattainable queen. Follow him in his dilemma, and you may find yourself 'aww-ing' at the end.


_This fic goes against the mainstream... a tad. The pairing used is one I haven't seen used anywhere in anything, so prepare yourself for something completely new and different! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: CATS does not belong to me. Dang._

* * *

I'd been watching her all night.

I don't think anyone noticed, either. I'd always been a pro at being discreet.

I mean, it came as second nature to the Conjuring Cat stuck inside a human household.

That's right, I'm Mistoffelees, the Original Conjuring Cat, and I have a certain affection for a queen.

She doesn't know, of course. I'm too painfully shy to approach her, and I think that a couple other toms already have their sights set on her. And I'm probably not even on her radar, seeing how she's a full ball older than me.

It's rather unfortunate, really, that I was born so far after her, because the two of us would have made a rather compatible match.

Both of us are rather subdued and shy. She never likes to draw attention to herself, unless she has something to share, and I'm the same way. However, whenever we do decide to come into the limelight, the other cats remember us. We're observers, the kind of cat that sits back and watches, taking mental notes, and then figures out what's going on before anyone else.

But I'm not meaning to say we're both perfect.

At least, I'm not.

Even now, I can't find a single criticism of her, both in the physical and mental sense. Every time I see her, I become entranced by the way her fur gleams as the moonlight hits it, the way her melodic purring comes from deep in her throat, the way she cocks her head with interest every time Munkustrap gets up to tell us another story.

Then I have to give myself a little shake and bring myself back to reality. There's no way a goddess among cats would ever give me, the scrawny little magician, a second look.

But I don't mean to imply that she's stuck up or thinks herself better than anyone else. She's far from it, in fact. She just… prefers another tom.

Sometimes I find myself watching her with an avid attention bordering on obsession when her eyes fall on the lucky tom that has captured her affection. I pretend it's me she's looking at, not him, and those are the times when I feel myself slipping from reality.

It's scary, knowing that a queen holds a power over you, even if she doesn't know it. It makes me even more wary, makes me guard my feelings with a fierce intensity none can match.

In a sense, both of us are in the same situation. We both have feelings for another cat, a cat who we feel can never return them. In my case, she's a sought-after older queen, and in her case, he's… quite plainly, unattainable to any queen. That tom just never seems interested in settling down with a mate. It's almost as if he's paranoid that it will look improper for him to have such a luxury.

Either way, I still live in constant fear that one day he'll finally pick up on her subtle hints and break out of his protective shell to become her mate. Both of them are old enough to have one now, whereas I am still a few moons too young. It's too big of a responsibility for a tom just out of kitten hood.

In my mind, however, I'm never too young. I'm always the strapping young tom you hear about in one of Uncle Skimble's stories, and she's the damsel in distress I rush off to rescue. It's a bit childish to still think this way, but when fantasies are all you have, it's very easy to be sucked into these stories.

And it seems that every time I set eyes on her, my mind goes back to the last story I heard, guiltily dwelling on how I saw her, the damsel, acting in my head.

Sometimes, when I say 'hello,' I even play out a fantasized ending to even this simple encounter.

_She'd mistake 'Hello' for 'I love you,' and say, "I love you too." And then, rather than admit that wasn't what I had said, I would take her by the paw and the two of us would live happily ever after…_

So irrational, Misto.

Even now, as she's singing, I'm unconsciously moving closer to her, secretly longing to be within a few inches of her. Her voice is permeating into my unconscious mind, stirring something deep in my id. Is this what it's like for the older toms? Have I passed some benchmark, the one nobody wants to talk about?

Maybe I should talk to Skimbleshanks about it. Even though he's not really my uncle, he's been like one to me ever since I first joined the Jellicles. The two of us share a close bond. I feel like I can talk to him about anything without feeling foolish.

Her song is drawing to a close now, and I can feel my eyes rolling back under the protection of my eyelids. My paws feel numb, and my entire body feels paralyzed.

I suddenly become aware of the fact that I am standing in the middle of a group of cats, openly displaying my feelings for an unattainable queen. Embarrassed, and jerked back to reality by the unpleasant sensation in the pit of my stomach, I open my eyes, looking around warily. Luckily, everyone's attention is focused elsewhere, and my actions have gone unnoticed.

My ears twitch a little as she is joined in her song. Although the other voices mingle together in carefully pitched harmony, I preferred her solo moments before. My eyes are still on her, watching her mouth move.

I let my voice join the others, only barely conscious of the words I am singing. I move my mouth in time with hers, blocking out all the other voices. It is just the two of us, singing a duet. In my mind, I see her turning to look at me, entranced by my voice as I am with hers…

Abruptly the song ends, and I stand, blinking stupidly, completely disoriented…

* * *

I feel stupid for not talking to Skimbleshanks.

But after all, I am not sure he would have even heard me, for he was very preoccupied with the spectacle being performed in front of us.

There had been another Macavity scare, but it turned out to be just Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, up to their usual tricks. As the rest of us ran to safety among the junkyard's many hidden nooks, the two paraded about the clearing, obviously pleased with themselves.

Once word had reached us that it was only the burglaring duo, we had all made our way back to the clearing to watch the two. The younger cats seemed amused with their antics, but the older ones looked on disapprovingly as the striped cats glorified their lifestyle.

Skimbleshanks had been particularly uncomfortable, seeing how he was their father and he obviously had hoped his kittens would amount to better things. While I wished to speak with him, now that everyone else was distracted, he looked so distraught that I thought it better to leave him be.

Besides, even if I would have gone over to him, I would not have gotten out more than a quick, "Hey, Uncle Skimble," for Jennyanydots, Skimble's mate, came over to him barely a minute after I had spotted him. The two of them were obviously deciding how best to deal with their two eldest children, for they kept shaking their heads and gesturing to the dancing Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer.

Although I, too, disapproved of a life of crime, I couldn't help but admire the two for their daring and pluck. Maybe if I possessed similar qualities, I could have figured out a painless and embarrassment free way to tell that certain queen my feelings.

As the twins launched into a series of acrobat-like movements, I noticed a few of the older cats stealthily moving around behind the two so as to surprise them at the close of their performance. Although I didn't know what exactly was about to happen, I positioned myself to come around from the front to help.

And then everyone burst from the junk heaps, completely surrounding the two. They began running every which way, seeking a weak spot in out circle. Luckily they had not noticed the sizeable gap between me and…

Demeter was standing next to me. Although there was a gap between us that could have easily fit two more cats, she was still next to me. I felt my breath catch in my chest, and was momentarily unaware of what was going on around me.

As Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer finally spotted the gap and strode towards it, Demeter and I stuck out our arms as one to block off this way of escape. I felt exhilarated to have moved in unison with her, however small the significance.

Our paws were almost touching.

My attention was no longer on the two cat burglars, but on the paw of my goddess. Her claws were out, glinting golden in the moonlight. Her fur lightened as it moved up her paw onto her arm, going from a deep shade of orange to an almost white shade of yellow.

I didn't care that all the Jellicles might see. I didn't care that she might notice what I was doing. I didn't care if the entire world saw me. My body was no longer connected to my brain; I was acting out of pure id.

My paw felt as if there were little ants crawling all over it. My whole body shuddered, and I let my paw trail slowly through the air above hers, as if stroking it.

* * *

_At the end of _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer_, watch Misto's hand. It seriously looks like he was brushing the air by Demeter's hand, as if longing to touch her. Call me crazy, but I think it's kinda endearing for him to have feelings for her. I think of it as an innocent little schoolboy crush, like the one a third grader has on one of his teenage sister's friends._

_Admit it, you're totally going, "awww…" right now. Or thinking I'm on crack or something… Or frantically you tube searching 'Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer' so you can see for yourself…_


End file.
